


Stay

by rafaholic



Category: Tennis RPF
Genre: First Kiss, M/M, Revelations
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-09
Updated: 2019-12-09
Packaged: 2021-02-26 02:54:40
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,305
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21726337
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rafaholic/pseuds/rafaholic
Summary: Revelations at US Open.
Relationships: Roger Federer/Rafael Nadal
Comments: 2
Kudos: 71





	Stay

Roger was sitting on his bench. US Open was about to start and his head was struggling to concentrate on his first match but it had never been so hard. He was scheduled on court right next to Rafa and that was enough to make his heart beat twice faster than normal.

He didn’t know when it all had started. One day Rafa was his rival and friend. The day after he was the person Roger could not be near to without blushing and lowering his gaze. Maybe it had started after that semifinal at Roland Garros, played in a tornado. Rafa had been so flawless, so perfect, so beautiful in his element. He had seemed to be perfectly at ease in a climatic situation nobody else could have been at ease in. Roger had been too stunned to even feel bad about his own loss. At the net he had congratulated Rafa, squeezing him a little and feeling his muscles contracting under his touch. The Spaniard had looked at him in the eye and whispered a soft “I’m sorry Rogi, you were great”. His forehead against Roger’s cheek, his fingertips against Roger’s back and the Swiss was done. He realized in the blink of an eye what he had always had under his gaze. What he thought it was a special friendship wasn’t a friendship. Not from his side, at least. Since 2004 Rafa had not been a rival more. He had always known that. But this... this was too much. He didn’t know how to manage that feeling that had always been unspoken, misunderstood, underestimated and yet, suddenly, so strong and scaring.

Roger sighed deeply.

He felt a hand on his shoulder and almost jumped from his seat.

“Hey man, sorry, didn’t mean to scare you. Are you okay?”, asked a concerned Sascha Zverev.

Roger seemed to realize he was acting a bit too strangely, cause the German looked genuinely worried.

“Uhm, yeah, sorry. Ready to train?”

Sascha nodded simply and started to warm up. 

During the training he tried to ignore Roger’s strange behavior but at the millionth time Roger glanced at the adjacent court, he couldn’t do it anymore.

“Roger, where are you?”

The Swiss sighed and shook his head.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, you’re right. You should find someone better to train. Do you mind?”

“No, Roger, I don’t mind but... are you sure you’re okay?”

“Actually, I don’t feel good at all today.”, Roger answered, hoping the young man wouldn’t keep asking him for more.

Sascha followed Roger’s gaze, which once again was gently lying on Rafa’s figure. 

Sascha frowned, unable to comprehend the Swiss’ behavior, totally uncommon for someone like him, usually always so focused.

“Is it Rafa?”

Roger seemed to wake up from a trance and widened his eyes in disbelief while a slight feeling of panic was beginning to grow inside him.

Was he really being that obvious?

“What? What did you say?”, he asked, voice trembling a little.

“Rafa. He’s in a hell of a form. Does it worry you?”

Roger regained his normal skin color and heart beat’s speed.

“Uhm, yeah. I... care about this trophy very much.”, he lied.

Sascha didn’t seem to be completely convinced but he let it go and patted his shoulder friendly.

“You’ll be ready, Roger. Don’t worry.”

The Swiss watched Sascha leave and started to train again with his coach, trying to focus and to leave everything that wasn’t related to his tennis out of his mind. 

He could.

An hour after, in the locker room he was pretty proud of himself and of how he had been able to find his focus back.

He was Roger Federer for something, to be honest.

He hadn’t won 20 Grand Slam titles by fortune. No feeling was allowed to stop him from being a professional. No matter how strong it was.

In the exact moment he was complimenting himself mentally, Rafa came out of the shower cubicle, wearing nothing but a towel around his waist.

“Hey Rog”, the Spaniard smiled brightly, causing Roger to shiver.

“Rafa...”

“Ready to start the tournament?”

“Yeah...”

Rafa looked at him.

“Roger, can I ask you something?”

“Yes, what is it?”

The Spaniard seemed to be considering something, probably trying to articulate his thoughts in English but failing.

He shook his head.

“Nothing, forget it. It’s probably just me being paranoid.”, he smiles, waving his hands dismissively, as he was trying to drive away the thought.

Roger stood up an came a little closer to him.

“Tell me, Raf. What is it?”

The Spaniard sighed.

“Nothing, Roger, it’s just... did I do or say something wrong? To you?”, he asked, seeming unsure and a bit sad.

“What? Not at all. Why would you ask me that?”

Of everything Roger could have thought, that one was the only thing he hadn’t considered at all Rafa was going to ask him.

“I don’t know... we used to be close but now it seems like you... avoid me? Maybe?”

Roger didn’t know how to explain himself. He hadn’t a clue about how he could make Rafa understand that he wasn’t trying to avoid him at all without betraying what he was desperately trying to hide from Rafa and from himself even. So Rafa continued.

“You answers to me with little words... barely look at me.. so I wondered...”

“No Raf... I’m not... I’m sorry if you thought...”

“It’s okay Roger, you don’t have to explain it to me, I was just wondering if I had hurt you without realizing it or something...”, Rafa interrupted.

Roger looked at the Spaniard and his heart almost exploded. He couldn’t prevent himself from stroking Rafa’s cheek with the back of his hand.

“Rafa, I...”

The quiet of the locker room was interrupted by a bunch of players that had finished their training sessions. Sascha was there as well and was the only one to notice the two of them being a bit too close.

Roger immediately put distance between their bodies and left the room quickly.

Rafa shook his head slightly, starting to dress up.

*

Rafa was on court, playing his first Us Open match of the year. Roger was in the players’ lounge, having dinner and watching the match on the big screen installed from the tournament’s organizers. He was enraptured as always by Rafa’s strong but graceful movements, when Sascha sat next to him putting an arm on his right shoulder and scaring the older man again.

“For fuck’s sake, Sascha, you have to stop doing this! You’re going to kill me!”, he almost screamed.

The German looked a bit taken by surprise and raised his hands in defense.

“Wow Rog, calm down, you’re really too nervous...”

The Swiss let go a defeated sigh, knowing perfectly well that he was acting like a mad lately.

“I’m sorry...”

Sascha looked at him with the eyes of someone who was perfectly aware of what was going on.

“Roger, you should tell him.”, he said. Like that. 

Simply.

The Swiss didn’t understand at first. He looked away from the screen to focus his attention to Sascha completely.

“What? Tell what? To who?”

Zverev rolled his eyes.

“Roger, please. Stop. Don’t try to fool me with bullshit, it won’t work.”

“Wha-“

“I’m not blind, Roger. Nobody is here. Well, at this rate, maybe Rafa is. But he’s the only one.”

Roger was now really panicking.

“Sascha, what are you-“

“You’re fucking obsessed with him! You can’t even concentrate on your training, and that’s not like you, you know this! You keep looking at him, and, for the love of God, what the hell was that scene in the locker room some days ago?”

Roger blushed violently. He was screwed. He had been too obvious. Sascha wasn’t stupid and if he had noticed, probably everyone else had too. He buried his face in his hands, sighing deeply.

“Sascha, I’m not ready to have this conversation now.”

“Well, you should be. If not with me, at least with him. It’s not a crime, Roger. Being in love it’s not a crime.”

Roger froze.

“I’m not in-“

“Oh please.”, Sascha interrupted him immediately.

“Don’t even complete the sentence. You’re the most in love I’ve ever seen someone to be. And this is killing you, isn’t it?”

Roger hadn’t nothing to say. He wanted to contradict him but he knew he could not.

So he gave up.

“If, and I said IF, I was in love, it would change anything. He would never-“

“That you don’t know. Tell him, Roger.”

“What if he’ll rejects me? What if he‘ll hate me? What... what if he’ll delete me from his life and-“

“Roger, is Rafa you’re talking about. He’s the most kind human being I’ve ever met in my life. He would never hurt your feelings, even if he didn’t feel the same. But if fifteen years of puppy eyes and praises at press conferences and sweet hugs at the net count for something, I would say you’re not risking any kind of refusal.”

Roger raised his gaze to the screen and saw Rafa celebrating his victory. He smiled.

“Thank you, Sasch. You’re a good guy.”

“You can bet your old fucking ass I am.”, the younger one joked, getting up and leaving the players’ lounge.

*

It was not before 11 pm that Roger took all his courage and knocked at Rafa’s hotel room.

The Spaniard looked beautiful beyond comprehension in his eyes. 

He felt his mouth go dry and swallowed slowly, trying not to lose his composure and just throw himself at Rafa.

“Raf, sorry it’s late, can I... can I come in?”

Rafa seemed a bit taken by surprise but he smiled and opened the door to let Roger enter.

When he was inside he looked around, noticing how different that room was from his own. It was absolutely the same but there were traces of Rafa everywhere and he couldn’t help thinking that they were making the room look better.

“Rogi, you okay?”

“Yes, now that I’ve figured it out I am okay.”, he smiled, feeling light as he never had since months.

“Figured it out...”, Rafa repeated, trying to make sense of those words.

Roger immediately started to speak again.

“You were right. I’m not the same with you lately.”

“Yeah, I am aware of this...”

Rafa said it sadly, like it was something he had actually spent time thinking about, like it was something that had been bothering him but that he had accepted someway. Yet his eyes clouded instantly. Roger took his face in his hands and forced Rafa to look at him in the eye.

“Rafa I’m not the same because I actually can’t be the friend I was for you before-“

He interrupted himself, feeling for a moment the weight of his following revelation.

Rafa searched in his eyes for an answer

“Before?”, he asked whispering.

“Before realizing that I’m madly in love with you.”

Rafa shivered intensely under his touch.

“You... are in love with me?”

“No, that’s not what I said. I said I’m _madly_ in love with you. And that’s different. Cause being in love... it means I love you and that’s great but... being madly in love it means I love you **AND** I can’t stop thinking about you and I want to be with you always and this is actually killing me cause I see you all the time and you’re so damn beautiful and I just want to stop looking at you but I fucking can’t. I’m probably in love with you since the first time I saw you and that was okay, I could manage it, but now I’m _madly_ in love with you and I can’t anymore and, God, please say something before I make a complete fool of myself and-“

Rafa shushed him in the only way he could think of. He kissed him. Sweetly but decisively. It was the most intense feeling he had experienced in years.

“Are you done?”, he asked sweetly, breath short, after some minutes.

Roger chuckled slightly and joined their foreheads, nodding.

“Why didn’t you tell me anything? Why did you just stay far from me and make me think you were angry with me? It was terrible...”

“I was so scared, I didn’t want to bother you, I didn’t even know what was it all...”

Rafa interrupted him by hugging him tightly.

“Don’t ever make me think again you’re going away from me.”

Roger felt his heart to melt and hugged Rafa back with all his strength.

“I won’t...”

“Don’t want to lose you. Never. Never, Rogi.”, he added, allowing a little tear to wet his cheek.

Roger loosened the embrace and captured it with his lips.

“Don’t cry, baby. I’m sorry I made you think I was putting distance between us...”

“I felt like shit. But I forgive you, no?”

“So you do care about me too...”

Roger meant it like a statement but it sounded like a question. 

Rafa frowned and looked at him in the eye to understand if he was speaking seriously.

“You not asking me that for real? Roger really? I love you since I know you. How could you not understand it?”

Roger couldn’t help smile.

He was staring at Rafa as he was seeing him for the first time.

“Why didn’t you say anything?”

“Why didn’t you?”, Rafa asked back.

They laughed together.

“We’re two idiots”, Roger stated.

“Speak for yourself, old man.”

“Hey!”

“What?”

“You’ve called me old”

“Well, you are”

“You’re not that young either, you know...”

“33 is younger than 38”

“You’re horrible.”

“But you love me”

“Yes.”

“And I love you.”

“Yes?”

“Madly.”

“Hey, don’t steal my adverbs.”

“Shut up.”

“You shut up.”

“Roger?”

“What?”

“Stay with me?”

“For tonight?”

“What about for life?”

“Gladly.”

FIN


End file.
